


i'd follow you anywhere

by Skyuni123



Series: One-Off Movie Ficlets [9]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Depression, F/M, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Hugs, M/M, Newt Lives, Post-The Death Cure, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-08 22:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13468167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123
Summary: an unlikely survival, and an even more unlikely reunion.(post the death cure film. follows the events of the film, not the book.)





	1. Chapter 1

And he could throw the cure away. He could. 

After everything WCKD has taken from him - after Teresa, after Newt, after everyone he had lost on the way out of the Maze and all who had died on the road to Safe Haven - it’s well within his right.

He could throw the vial and lose the past to the waves.

He could.

But he doesn’t.

  
  


The waves crash down loudly on the beach sometimes, and startle him into waking. They don’t sound like the Doors closing, or distant explosions, or anything, really, but they’re loud enough to wake him.

Loud enough to convince him that something’s wrong. 

 

Because something is wrong. 

 

It’s not another war, nor an army of Cranks on the horizon.

 

It’s a low, queasy feeling in his stomach every time he turns Newt’s letter over in his hands, every time he brushes up against the vial hanging round his neck, every time he walks past the monolith and sees their names. 

It’s months and  _ months  _ of crying, of reliving the things he could have changed, of tossing and turning through the night and of finding solace in other people’s arms.

It feels wrong, and Thomas doesn’t like it.

  
  
  


The months pass in a blur. He helps build houses, plant crops, construct water purifiers - he does everything he can to ignore the raw wound in his heart.

He misses Teresa.

He misses Newt.

 

All he can see when he closes his eyes are their deaths. Her plunge into the WCKD inferno, his resolve melting away before his eyes. 

 

It’s not taken him very long to realise that his feelings for Teresa are almost equal to his feelings for Newt. The hollowness in his heart? The longing? Not such a specific thing, after all. 

If only he’d known his blood was the cure, he could have stopped so much  _ loss. _

 

He’s sitting in the sand one day, probably five months into their stay at Safe Haven. He doesn’t really know. He’s not spoken to anyone for days. 

 

Sometimes he thinks about walking into the sea. Just letting the waves wash him away, or throw him against the rocks. It’d give his life more purpose than sitting on a beach waiting for infinity to happen. 

 

“Hello.” Jorge sits down next to him, and stares out at the waves. “How are you feeling?”

His glare must say it all, because Jorge laughs richly and says, “Not so good. I understand. Look, Thomas, I’ve got something to show you.”

“Show me?” He speaks for the first time in days, voice cracking and rough from underuse. “What?”

“It’s probably best if I just show you.” Jorge is hesitant. It’s obvious in his voice, and very uncharacteristic of him. He stands, offers Thomas a hand. “Come on.”

 

Well, it’s not like there’s anything else to do. He takes his hand and allows Jorge to pull him to his feet.

 

“We sent the Berg out a few days ago. Felt it was long enough since the fall of the City.” Jorge strides ahead of him, forcing him to pick up the pace. 

The sand slides away beneath his feet, making him stumble. His muscles sting, everything protesting, as they’re tested more than they have been for several weeks. He hadn’t heard the Berg leave, but he’d not exactly been all there very much. “And?”

“It’s complete anarchy back there. Small factions seem to be running everything. Cranks everywhere. The City is no more.” 

“Good.” He replies, and he means it. The City was everything bad about WCKD, all of their hubris and arrogance and misjudgement locked up behind the walls. He’s not sad to hear that it’s gone.

“But they did find… something.”

 

They’re walking up one of the dunes now, heading back away from the sea, to where the Berg and some of the maintenance huts are.  Nausea’s building in his gut, burning fires up his windpipe. “Tell me what, Jorge.”

“It’s just-”

 

But then there’s a shout.

 

“Tommy!”

 

A chill runs down his spine.

No shuckin’ way.


	2. the cliff

Newt.

No.

This has to be a trick. It has to be WCKD messing with him. It can’t possibly be the real Newt.

 

He sinks to his knees and digs his hands into the dirt. No.

 

_ Can’t they just leave him alone?  _

Hasn’t he dragged himself through enough already?

 

No.

 

His vision’s going dark at the edges as he struggles to suck in a breath past the lump in his throat. He can’t breath. He can’t -

 

“Tommy, please.”

It’s a sick parody of what came before, but then there’s a hand on his shoulder and he’s looking up into a pair of familiar brown eyes.

 

No. There’s no way. 

 

“You’re not real.” His voice cracks on the last word, and he tries to shuffle away from him. “You can’t be real.”

“Pretty sure I am, mate.”

It sounds like him, but it  _ can’t  _ be. “You’re dead.”

“Thought so too for a bit. Was a bit of a surprise when I woke up.” Newt sinks down gingerly and sits across from him. His eyes are clear, his arms are Flare-free, there’s nothing in him that even suggests that he was ever sick.

 

This has got to be a dream. There’s no way, otherwise. 

 

“Just go.” He hisses through clenched teeth, trying hard not to start sobbing. “You’re not real. You died, Newt. I killed you.”

“Did you?” And then he starts undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

“Stop- what are you-”

“I’m not dead, Thomas.” Newt pulls his shirt to the side and bares the thick ridge of scar tissue across his heart to the air.

 

But-

 

_ How?  _ How can he possibly be here?

 

He reaches out a hand, not even daring to believe it, and brushes across the scar.

 

Newt shudders, inhaling sharply through his teeth, but doesn’t pull away.

 

He feels the roughness of it, the rigidity of the flesh beneath and - Oh. 

 

_ Oh. _

 

He inhales, but exhales on a sob. “You’re alive. You’re really alive.”

“Told you so, shank.” Newt gently grasps him around the shoulders and pulls him in for a hug. 

  
  
  


Later, they’re sitting on a ridge staring out across the sea. The sun beats down warmly overhead, and sparkles off the ocean below. Eternity is just a stone’s throw below.

 

“Getting the Flare - it was the  _ worst,  _ Tommy, you have no idea. Felt like someone else was controlling me, like there was fire in my veins and it was trying to rip its way through my skin and into the world.” Newt chuckles, humourless. “I don’t recommend it.”

“But you’re here now. How?” He can hardly believe it. Even with Newt sitting next to him, arm gently brushing against his, it still doesn’t feel quite real.

“The reason we couldn’t cure the Flare was that we thought it was a disease.”

“Unless I’ve dreamt the last few years, it definitely was.”

“It’s not a disease, exactly.” Newt nudges him. “It’s a  _ parasite. _ It attacks someone, makes that person a host, and then leaves the host once the host is not longer useful.” 

“Are you saying that it just… left you?”

“Well, I definitely died there, thanks for that by the way, but then I woke up and these rebels were sewing me up. Turns out the best cure is just to die for a bit.”

 

Thomas can’t believe it. After all these years… after all of the research WCKD had done… how could it be so simple? 

 

He collapses back onto the grass, completely wrung out. “Damn.” He says, and then laughs. It’s a bitter, twisted thing. “Damn.”

“Yeah.” Newt stretches out, something clicking in his back as he does, and lays down next to him. “Good that, though, not being dead.”

 

“You’re telling me.”

 

There’s silence for a few minutes. The sounds of the sea, of a few remaining birds, and the wind in the trees wash over them. 

 

Newt reaches out blindly and prods him on the chest. “You’re still wearing my necklace.”

“Oh, yeah.” He sits up, starts to pull the amulet over his head, but Newt grabs him by the wrist and stops him.

“Leave it, mate, it’s good.” He gently drags himself up to sit next to him.

 

There’s a pause. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but pregnant. Static. Tense. 

 

Newt clears his throat, “Did you… uh… read my letter?”

“Yeah.” Reading it is an understatement. He’s read it so much that the words are burned into his soul. 

“Yeah, I mean, sorry about that. I wrote it… distractedly.. I think. But I meant it. Every word.” 

 

Newt’s nervous, he realises. He’s tripping over his words, hanging on the precipice of panicking. 

 

“I know.”

“You know?” Newt replies, but Thomas can hardly hear it because his heart’s pounding too loud in his ears. 

He swallows. “You… uh… matter to me as well.” There’s a lump in his throat. It feels like he’s on the verge of screaming and crying at the same time and he wants nothing more than to stand up and run away.

 

Newt grins. For the first time in years it actually reaches his eyes. “Good that, Tommy.” 

  
  


And then Newt lunges forward and kisses him.

 

It’s awkward at first, because they’re both so shaky that staying upright isn’t even an option, but then the kiss softens into something deeper, something warmer, something that’s even harder to pull away from. 

 

“You’re going to have to do something about that beard if we’re going to keep on doing this.” Newt thumbs over his stubble, which is definitely stubble and most definitely not a beard.

“Picky.” He chuckles.

“Maybe I am.” Newt says, and then kisses him again.

  
  


Yeah, this 'not being dead' thing is pretty damn great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the story. Thanks for reading, everyone! :)

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on the [ tumblr ](http://villainousfilmmaker.tumblr.com)


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